Here's a look at the past. Items have been culled from The Chronicle's archives of 25, 50, 75 and 100 years ago.

1987

Sept. 18:Pope John Paul II's visit to San Francisco yesterday was met with the largest protests of his U.S. tour. A noisy protest by homosexuals, feminists and Jews outside Mission Dolores Basilica was the biggest of three major demonstrations. The protest was held about a block away but close enough for people attending the service to hear. San Francisco SupervisorHarry Britt lashed out at the Vatican. "If you want to be spiritual, the last place to go would be the place where religion is fat and sassy; at the place where you have the richest landlord in the entire world." Britt told his fellow gays, "To be told in the name of God to be ashamed of who we are is an abomination. The pope has a lot to learn in San Francisco about humaneness and trust. ... It will be a great day for him if he goes away with a greater understanding," Several hundred Jews demonstrated outside St. Mary's Cathedral to protest the pope's meeting with Austrian President Kurt Waldheim and the Vatican's refusal to recognize Israel. Waldheim is accused of having served in a World War II unit involved in the deportation of Greek Jews to Nazi concentration camps.

1962

Sept. 16: Three months ago Paul Figueroa, 13, an eighth-grader at Lick Grammar School, sent $9.95 of his carefully saved nickels to Century Arms Co., St. Albans, Vt., for a "Russian Model Bazooka." Young Figueroa is interested in model airplanes, guns and the like. He thought the bazooka would be just the thing for his collection. A few weeks later a crew from Acme Fast Freight came struggling up the stairs to the Figueroa apartment at 24 Whitney Street. They were lugging a four-foot crate. They presented Paul with a $22.68 freight bill. When the crate was opened there it was. A bazooka. The real thing. "Who needs a real bazooka!" cried the boy's father, Arthur Figueroa, "Get it out of here." Dutifully, the Acme boys lugged the crate back down the stairs. A letter was sent off to Century Arms Co. What now. Friday came the reply: "Keep it."

Yesterday Acme Fast Freight turned the bazooka over to San Francisco police. They will dump it in the bay.

1937

Sept. 22: The worst fire since the 1906 holocaust last night erupted in the plants of Standard Oil in the South of Market. At midnight, after eight explosions and a flood of burning fuel oil had spread ruin over a block, hundreds of firemen confined the disaster to the area bounded by Hooper, Sixteenth and Arkansas Streets. Two oil tanks containing 44,000 gallons were destroyed. But the danger of flames breaking out of control from currents of blazing oil running through the streets created the threat of destruction in the entire area stretching to the bay. At a late hour firemen were attempting to prevent the ignition of seven remaining tanks. There was a danger that the tons of water played on the fire would breach a five-foot retaining wall, carrying blazing oil on the surface of the water. Red paint blistered on fire trucks. Hoses literally burst into flames. One truck after being showered with flaming oil was abandoned. The gas tank in the truck then exploded, leaving it charred and derelict. Black smoke cast a pall over the city punctuated by repeated fiery explosions. Three hundred men from 40 engine companies directed by Chief Brennan fought the flames, the greatest concentration of men and equipment ever used in a single emergency in the city's history. The Ashbury and Twin Peaks were drawn upon to supply 11 million gallons of water an hour. Under the intense heat, oil tanks took on the appearance of hot stoves and as safety valves gave out there was a "whoosh" and released gasoline skyrocketed, turned to flames and soaring tongues of fire several hundred feet or more. Buildings for blocks around were shaken as though by earthquakes.

1912

Sept. 21: There is $365 in perfectly good money down at Central Police Station for someone to claim it. Anyone can claim it by walking in and saying, "This is my money." But there is a string attached in the shape of an arrest on the charge of running a gambling house, and the man who claims it will thereby confess his guilt. Police raided a gambling place at 339 Bush Street yesterday, where racehorse betting was in progress. There were seven men present, and the seven headed for the windows without touching a pile of money on the table. The men went through the windows and dropped from the second story of the building through a skylight below to the street level. That there were no broken legs is a miracle. Three were arrested but vigorously denied the slightest claim to the money, which seems destined to make happy some widows and orphans of departed policemen through the pension fund. {sbox}